Oedipus
by CrackerTales
Summary: It was just a matter of time before he found a family just like his on another dimension. Even if it was not quite the same, even if it was an illusion, it felt real. (One Shot)


**_Gravity Falls and all its characters were created by Alex Hirsch and belong to Disney_**

 **Oedipus**

 **By CrackerTales**

It was truly an astonishing sight. The tall and imposing buildings raised from the ground and the detailed carvings on their walls invited Stanford to get closer and admire the beauty they were. The reddish color of the evening sky combined to perfection with the strong, tall columns supporting the temple, and huge statues of old gods and goddesses protected it and the palace from harm. On the royal place, the young traveler imagined a wise king living with a beautiful daughter ready to be given for marriage, like on the fairytales. The man chuckled at his own imagination and shook his head scolding himself for picturing himself in a heroic and valiant quest that would earn him the admiration of the people, the respect of the king, and the pretty lady´s heart. A ridiculous idea for he wasn´t even sure said girl even existed and because he was trying to find a peaceful place where he could forget the horrors of the previous dimension. All he wanted to do was rest and then, continue with his quest of his home. He was already 35 years old, and conscious that he was not meant to live forever.

As he walked through the peaceful streets of the city. He notice traders and clients talking lively as they tried to get to a considerable price for a couple of well raised sheep. Stanford was quick to notice the strange rings they wore on the index finger of each hand and got excited to see that they serve as projectors to display a small holographic screens on thin air, which were used to transfer money from one account to other. A fascinating sight indeed! This civilization was extremely advanced in technology, but they lived simple lives. Their customs and behavior remind him of those old places he read about on school all those years ago. This place felt antique and poetic, there was something on the air that made him feel nostalgic and glad, but also uneasy and full of energy.

A young woman approached him, her pretty face was forever marked by a nasty scar that crossed from the end of her left eye to the her jawline on the other side. She walked as if she was dancing with a red and purple cloth on her hands same she placed gracefully around the adventurer´s neck and tenderly forced him to low his head to hers, for she was much smaller than him.

"Is the finest silk you´ll ever see, traveler" she said with a sure, velvet-like voice "Only 20 grains for you"

"Not interested" he said freeing himself from her delicate trap and returning the cloth safety on her hands

"But you will need some new clothes" she pronounced as she inspected him as he was some sort of strange device found on old ruins "You look too foreign like this"

"Well, I am foreign"

But she wasn't listening to him, only watching with her hand on her chin and her mouth twisted on a thoughtful fashion. Stanford, feeling exposed, cover himself up even more with his torn dark coat.

"I think there are some clothes that may suit you on back on the warehouse. Come with me" And she tried to grab his hand, but he was quick and took it away from her. Poor lady almost felt on her face

"I told you" he said getting irritated "I am not interested, Lady"

The young woman stood up and fixed her now dirty clothes with her hands cursing the young man under her breath, and he hesitated between helping her and apologizing or turning around and get away. He decide for the later.

"Well, if I know a smart traveler when I see him" said a third voice catching his attention. To his right was standing another woman with both her hands covered on metallic jewelry "Take one bracelet, young man, only 35 grains each, they all bring good luck"

He frowned and was about to open his mouth to decline but he never did

"Get off, whore" said the first woman "I saw him first"

"Sorry, dear" answered the other one with teasing dark eyes "you must´ve confused me with one of your sisters"

"I know you, cheap harpy" spit the lady wrapping the cloth around herself "you are the one who tricks poor souls who just want to live their lives. I have seen you, bitch, and you have nothing to offer to this miserable man"

And Stanford arched an eyebrow. All those times he fantasied about two pretty woman fighting for him, he have thought of a completely different scenario. Rolling his eyes and sighing heavily, he turn around and continued walking. He wanted to see the temples and palace better

"Hey!" stopped him that feminine voice "Where are you going? You haven´t bought a thing!"

"And I won´t" he replied annoyed, sending both women a cold gaze

"You can walk around Tebas looking like that!" said the other mocking him "Your clothes scream that you are not from here"

He continued walking, he didn´t answer, nor look at them again. He was done with those crazy sale girls

"We were just trying to help" said the first already giving up "The king hates outsiders"

::::

* * *

Stanford Filbrick Pines, Born on the 20th century on Planet Earth, on a completely different world that the current one, was starting to think he got the worse luck in the whole multiverse.

He had been in so many different dimensions before he should have known not to do things so carelessly. There he was, running for his life between old buildings and green grass covered ground as at least ten men followed him with swords and daggers ready to cut through his flesh. All because he had caught a falling pot in the little temple downtown. How was supposed to know it was a millenarian ceremony and the only way their gods would tell the priest how to survive the imminent war that everyone was expecting? How on earth was he supposed to know that he wasn't allowed on the temple on the first time? It had no security, no guard or even a person who tell other not to come inside! He knew this was most likely because the people from there knew the temples protocols too well to even try. The people who followed him were not angry at him for saving the old clay pot, but because he was an outsider and this was enough reason to believe he was an spy from another kingdom gathering information that would lead to their doom. He would tried to explain, but he learn some years ago to not even try on a dimension different than his own.

He was getting tired. He had been running for so long and deep inside he knew this was it. The pursuers got louder and louder and their voices closer as he felt his legs failing him and collapsing exhausted on the ground. It all seemed lost. It was the end, probably. He would never see the amazing cliffs of Gravity Falls, he would never see his mother, and he would never see Stanley again, but he knew from before he never had many chances to see do any of those things again. He felt like crying, but no tear crossed his face.

They said one should take opportunities by the hair, and he was seeing one of those a couple of feet away. On the road had stopped a strange carriage pulled by two strong black bulls in perfect shape and health. From the inside, a lean woman got out covered all in fine clothes and jewels, over her head she wore a golden hairband that matched beautifully with the ankle bracelet on her foot.

"What is going on here?" she asked powerfully and all the man who had just caught Stanford stop their blades mid-air at the sound of her voice

"Hail the gods who prosper us and take down our enemies, my Queen" exclaimed histrionic the leader of the party "This man had interfere with the oracle on the West Temple and doomed the fate of our Great City"

The woman walked with steady steps to the poor traveler´s side who was facing the dirt. leaning her head slightly to one side, she took the man from his hair, which she found soft despite how dirty it was. With a quick movement she pulled and forced his head up. It was then when he saw her and was astonished to find his own mother holding his head back. He gasped surprised but it was easily confused for being scared. He could not keep his eyes away for her who was looking back at him with all the coldness he thought she would never see poses. His hands curled into fists and he pressed his nails against his palm repeating inside his head over and over again that this woman here, was not quite the same who raised him on New Jersey.

"Fine one he is" said the woman pushing his head away from her "But if he had truly mess with the oracle, he must be judged by the Royal Priest, not one you" and she walked back to the carriage. Two men who traveled with her took Stanford by the armpits and drag him with them.

The whole way to the palace was miserable for our man. He had his hands tied up and the two guards watching his every move, but the distressing part was the Queen, who he knew to be no other than his mother, looking at him with indifference he would not be able to bare for much longer. She watched him as he was a weird, unhuman creature, no sight of recognition, not even the smallest. This made him wonder if a version of him even existed on this dimension

"Six Fingers" she said tapping his hands "A gift form the gods it may be"

He cringed at the words and felt his heart drop when she saw her ironic smile, so different from the one his real mother gave him every time he felt insecure about his abnormality. The Queen notice his attitude

"Oh, don´t be so sensitive!" she said patting his knee "You´ll live fantastically the rest of your life! Parties and feasts are always available for those condemned! We like to show or enemies our greatness by offering them the time of their lives before killing them"

He huffed and turned his head to the opposite side, his glasses drop to his nose when he did so

"And what is this!" said the woman taking them off his face and putting them upon her own "A seeing spectacles? This is so primitive! Poor boy! The tough life you must lead!"

And again her words had no sympathy on them and this made Stanford fight tears back. He never thought he would miss his family this much

"Hey!" she said taking his face with her hand forcing him to turn and see her "Don´t be so sad, stranger"

And she returned his glasses placing them where they belong. Once she did this, she look into his eyes and he noticed her features became softer. He was pleading it was because she recognized him somehow

"How old are you, my boy" she said softly but still cold

"Thirty-five"

"Ah" she said smirking "Not so young"

"How old are you?"

At the question one of the guards smack his face leaving a red mark on it

"No one is allowed to know the queen´s age!"

And Stanford chuckled despite the pain. It was just like back home 'You always want to know everything!' his mother always told him when he was little 'Some things are meant to be keep as mysteries!'. And he loved to tease her along with Stan.

"Oh! The man had found his laugh again!" she said mocking

"I am dying anyway!" he said not caring any more, at least one of the faces he would see before it would be one he was fond of

"Not so soon, dear" said her crossing her legs "You need to be judged by the Royal Priest and he is out doing some errands he is supposed to come back tomorrow but he will face some… trouble on the road"

"Why are you so sure?" he asked looking her overly sure face

"Why, I am a seer"

::::

* * *

By the time they arrive to the Palace and he was dragged inside, Ford had figure out her psychic powers were as legit as the ones she had back home, but of course he won´t tell a soul, he liked his face unhurt.

The main hall of the palace was spectacular; tall marble columns supported a beautiful roof decorated with paintings of all past victories. The floor was smooth and surprisingly warm, he was thankful for that for they made him take his boots out before getting in. Right in the middle of the hall, upon every eye level raised a majestic and imposing throne, decorated with pearls both white and black and emeralds on the very top. On it sat a stoic middle aged man dressed as rich as his wife. His eyes were covered by a dark cloth and his arms were crosses upon his chest. The Queen, along with her guards made a little reverence when they came to him, Stanford was forced to kneel.

"Who is this?" he said unimpressed, much to Ford´s annoyance

"A criminal" answered the queen and he exanimated the prisoner from where he was sitting "He is accused of being an enemy spy"

"He wears strange clothes and glass upon his eyes" he said after a huff "This criminal looks more like a poor man than a trained spy"

And Ford said nothing. Even if this man was not his father, he still had that air of authority that made him feel like a little child. He kept his eyes down

"And he isn´t, my lord" said the voice of his mother "I have seen him in a vision. He is no more than a confused traveler"

The king huffed and turn his face away from the poor prisoner

"Cut his throat right now then, there is no reason to waste or time with him"

Stanford´s blood became cold and so did his sweat. He didn´t care about the tears that were forming on his eyes, nor he did a thing to stop one from falling, he would die by orders of a man who looked exactly like his father.

"No!" exclaimed the queen a little too eager but her composure was back in a second "This man is accused of interfering with the Oracle! He must be judge and kill according to that!"

The king kept his unemotional face as his knuckles cracked against the armrest of his throne. Ford look up to see him trying to look behind the cloth.

"Take him to the special chambers" he ordered "Once the Royal Priest comes back, this criminal would die"

And Stanford was drag out again.

::::

* * *

The special chamber was way better than any other bedroom he had been before. And he really didn't care about the amazing decoration or the fact that it had his own fountain, all he cared about was the soft bed that was for the following days his own! He didn´t want to die, but if he did, at least he would sleep comfy and warm and he had forgotten the last time he did so.

A cracking sound make him turn around. His savior entered the room

"Mo…my queen!" he said saving it in the last moment "You can´t just get in like that! "

"I do what I want, outsider!" she replied "I am the queen!"

Stanford then realize somethings never change, even in different dimensions

"Sorry" he said lowering his gaze and the queen chuckle at his childish behavior. Her hand soon found his face and he caressed it tenderly making him to look at her. He really want to let go, rest his head on her shoulder and cry like the little child he felt at the moment. He missed his mother! He wanted things to be the same as they were when he was a little kid! A freak with his liar mother and Stanley at his side. Yet he fought the impulse and only sighed.

"Fear not" she said smiling "your fate may be sealed but at least you´ll have everything you want on your last days. Enjoy!"

But everything he wanted he could not have, not anymore.

"Anything?" he asked anyway seeing what was he allowed to do on his last moments

"Clothes, wine, women, a province named after you!" said the queen letting go of him and over dramatizing the explanations "You name it, darling, and it shall be done"

"Can I ask something for the queen?"

"It depends on what you want" said her pinching his cheek leaving it sore

"Information" he said rubbing his hand against his cheek "Does her majesty has any children?"

Suddenly the air became heavy and gloom. The queen hide her face from him and hug herself in a protective way. Stanford notice he had done something upsetting and immediately felt bad about that

"I´m sorry"

"It´s fine" said the woman turning to see him again "it happened long ago" and he only could look at her the same way he did all those years ago when his mother cried because of their father, other than that, he couldn´t do much

"I had three kids" she explained to him "One is traveling the world not wanting to be royalty and the other two… my precious twins…" she said with a cracking voice. Ford felt a shiver run through his back at the implications of her attitude

"I had a pair of twins" she said "they were born on a moonless night and an old witch said it was bad omen, and as if it was not enough my first born had six fingers on each hand" and she held her palm against his observing his abnormality

"That´s why you save me?" he asked full of hope "Because I remind you of your son?"

"They said it was a curse and the king order his extra fingers to be cut" she said letting go of him "the man who did it made a mistake and cut like he wasn´t supposed to" her eyes hold her tears no more

"He got sick afterwards, he was always hot and the area around the cuts turned dark" Stanford felt a hole on his chest and terror start to take over him. The air was getting heavier by the moment as he understood what happen to the version of himself on this dimension "He didn´t made it, My poor baby!" said softly the queen and throw herself to the floor crying softly

"What… what happen to St... the other" the woman didn´t answer and he felt a painful idea forming in his head "Where is he?"

"I don´t know!" she answered raising her voice "I don´t even know if he is alive at all! When my boy died the king decide that having just one of the twins was bad luck. He… he took him. He snatched him from my arms and took him to the forest were the wild beast could eat him up"

Ford couldn´t believe what he was hearing

"Why did you allowed that?" he asked in shock, his voice was almost a whisper

"What could I d…?"

"WHY DID YOU EVER LET HIM DO THAT?!" he snapped feeling his blood boiling and her tears about to fall. The hole on his heart was almost unbearable and it physically hurt him "WHAT KIND OF MOTHER ARE YOU? WHY IN THIS DANMED WORLD WOULD YOU LET THAT MAN TOOK YOUR SON AND THROW HIM OUT LIKE HE WAS A MISTAKE?"

"You don´t understand!"

"NO, I HAVE NEVER! HE WAS ONLY A CHILD AND HE WAS SCARED AND COLD AND… and alone" he sat down on the bed holding his hurting head "he was scared and his family abandon him"

"Young man?" said the queen reaching for him, he snap her hand off

"Get out" he ordered coldly and she didn´t make a fuss about it. When she left, he trashed the room completely. Broken vases on the floor and shredders sheets on the bed. He punched the walls until his fist bleed but he paid no attention to it. In this dimension, in this horrible reality both him and his brother were dead and the thought made him sick.

:::::

* * *

The next two days passed without any fuss. The queen had been right: sentenced to death were allowed to do whatever they want whenever they wanted. He didn´t asked for anything nor he talked, so the slaves thought he had been grieving for his life hence he destroyed the room he was staying in. What he found strange was that the queen order them to give him another one, one bigger and comfier, but she didn´t speak or look at him since the incident.

It was until the morning of the third day that they talk again. She had found him when he was sketching on a piece of paper on the palace gardens

"That´s good" she said looking over his shoulder. He didn´t respond

"Smart and an artist" she said sitting next to him "And I though you couldn´t be more perfect"

He would have been flattered, if it wasn´t for that sarcastic tone on her voice

"I should not have act the way I did" he said leaving the drawing aside "I lost control of myself"

"You are a dead man" she said not taking her eyes away "you are not the first one who destroys a room"

He noticed the piercing gaze of a woman who was practically the same as his mom looking at his hands, he assumes the sight of them must be painful for her and he hide them behind his back.

"Am I the first one who yells at the queen?" he asked chuckling ironically

"No other had the privilege of seeing the queen on his chambers before" she answered softly with an alien nervousness on her voice. Stanford notice that.

"What makes me so special?" he searched for her eyes and found them as dark and warm as he remembered them

"I wish I knew" she said reaching for his face again. He stood up quickly and excuse himself. That conversation was hurting them both, he assumed. When he was about to turn left and leave the section of the garden and the queen behind, her demanding voice caught up his attention again

"I find strange I haven´t learn your name just yet?"

He stood still for a second, then, turning his head slightly, gave her the answer that made him felt more comfortable

"Ford"

:::::

* * *

The night had come faster than he intended. There was much more he wanted to do before the party they were holding for him. He wanted to see the palace´s library, study the statues and architecture, and to ask the slaves about their customs and culture. But the sun had fallen very soon and he found himself in his chambers, complaining in silence as a pair of silent slaves prepared him for the feast. The clear color he was wearing were almost alien to him, it had been so long since he had worn them. People there would not use shoes to special ceremonies, so he would have to walk with his feet bare; custom said the soon to be death must wear a special piece of jewelry to show others, so he wore a black choker. The only thing he really liked about his new outfit was the long tunic they allowed him to wear, it was the closest thing to a trench coat he found.

As tradition stated, he arrived when the party had already began and had to walk all the way to the place where the Queen and King where sitting. He felt his face turning red as he walked, he was completely embarrassed, he was not use to drive this kind of attention to himself: He disliked negative attention with all his core. But he thought the reaction of the people as surprising: they didn´t insulted him, or mock him, neither one of them laughed or pointed. Strangely enough, he feel less attacked two nights before being killed than his whole childhood. He started walking straighter and with more firm pace, but his hands remained hidden on his back.

He was to be sit in front of the royal marriage which much to his discomfort remind him of a beloved couple back home. He wasn´t allowed to talk, so he spend the evening avoiding their gaze by lowering his own. The couple interpreted his attitude as humble and thought he was sorry for what he did, the queen smiled sadly at him and the king huffed through his nose for he was not impressed and Ford knew this, and it made him feel like a little kid once again.

The paranormal enthusiast soon decided to ignore the royals and focused on observing the party, and what things he found! Apparently this one was for him and his loved ones, but since he was an outsider, random town´s people were allowed on the palace to get drunk and dance with him. He never was much of a drinker, it would interfere with his work, but he allowed himself to dance even if he was horrible, and he laughed bitter and ironically.

When he could hold himself standing anymore, he returned to his seat disguising a sob with laughter, he was about to accept a glass of wine from the kings own cup bearer, but was interrupted by a lovely girl who threw herself at his feet and caressing his chest offered herself to him. He blushed and declined. Even if the idea was tempting, he would not go off with a prostitute in front of his parents.

"Strange that a strong young male regret such a girl on his final days" said the king with a mocking smirk. This brought the traveler many years back

"I am not in the mood" he replied and stretched his hand to take that glass of wine he wanted. The king stood up as struck by a lightning and stepped away from him as his features twisted with repulsion. Stanford was confused, but by following his gaze, he notice the king was watching his hands which he hide behind his back and cringed just like when he was a little boy.

"I lost two heirs for a curse like yours" he said bitterly "Let´s be glad your time is soon to end" and he left the hall with a doubting queen fast on his heels.

::::

* * *

It was not easy to wake up the next day. Stanford still heard the constant beating of the drums and the haunting laughter of the people, this things became terrifying and painful once the monarchs had left him alone on the Hall. He didn´t knew how the party ended, he didn´t pay attention after that, he actually never cared.

A slave had informed him, this was his last day alive. The priest would come back tomorrow at dawn and his trials would be held at the sunset. This left him with a full day of requests and little pleasures, and being the nerd he was, as his own brother would describe him, he asked to be taken to the library.

Much to Ford´s pleasure, it was a very complete library. It held not only the historical records of Tebas, but those of the border towns and enemy countries. It had a whole section dedicated to poetry and epic narrations, and one for political sciences, but what caught our man´s attention the most was the wing dedicated to mythology and zoology. Smiling like a child on Christmas morning, he hurried to one of the shelfs and took an old scroll on his hands. The feeling was satisfying and surreal, he felt like a character on those fantasy books he liked to read once in a while and pretend, for a minute and for the sake of the little child he still had somewhere, he was a smart, handsome explorer who would now safe the world from a terrible doom thanks to his investigation… and that was he had ever dream about since he was a kid.

He was drunk with words and knowledge happy and enjoying himself since long ago. Far seemed the nightmares and the betrayal, far seemed the failure and the necessity to run for his life in the previous dimension. For a moment, he allowed himself to forget about his death sentence and enjoy the information he now had. He copied and drew, and write on a piece of paper he had stolen, he felt a little mischievous. He felt like when he was truly happy.

But as he had learn in life, his happiness was as ephemeral as a soap bubble. Lowering his eyes to the right, he notice two scrolls hiding under the shelf and assuming they had fallen, he pick them up to place them on their rightful place, not without reading a little from them. Soon he realized it was a record for all the death penalties the kingdom had ever held. He read lines and lines of explicit descriptions of strangulation, mutilation, throat-cutting, and being burned alive and it made his head spin. He knew he was dying, but he never considered their methods to be this brutal. Composing himself, he read another sections about the causes and motives to receive a dead sentence: stealing, murder, taking other´s spouse as one´s own, rapping and, of course, interfering with religious matters. This is how Ford learned he was to die with a blade on his neck and his body would be throw to the sea, when their gods could claim it and do what they want with him. The idea of how they would kill him did not upset him as much as the sudden and heavy realization that he was indeed dying. He closed the scroll, placed back when he found it, and left the library, not planning to return.

::::

* * *

The other thing he asked for on his final day was a visit to the temple, but for this he needed the king´s approval, and he was still nervous about him. Escorted by a slave, he walked with shame to the throne hall, he felt so young, he felt exactly like when he went down to the pawn shop and asked his father for any news about Stanley, he remembered clearly the horrible things the man said after; things about treason and being better all by himself; with no distraction, no burden to carry around. It was just a couple of days after the incident and what he thought, of rather what his father had told him was that he was feeling sad just for the sake of habit and not because he had forgiven, let alone miss him.

The large wooden door of the hall opened for him and Stanford was surprised to see it completely empty

"His Majesty would be see you in a moment" said the Slave "Wait here for him" and he left locking Ford inside.

He then took this as an opportunity to explore the magnificence the hall was. He started with the Throne itself. Solid marble carved by the most talented sculptors, he deduced as he caressed where the arms were to rest with his six fingers and imagined what would be to be king one day. At one end, he found a dark piece of cloth, similar to the one the king used all the time. Driven by curiosity he took in on his hands and noticed it felt more like a flexible metal sheet despite its looks. Hesitant, he placed it before his eyes and smile at the realization it was meant to serve as a pair of sunglasses, but he could see much better with this thing, all seemed more illuminated and clear.

The door open again and the King entered the room followed by four slaves and his proud wife, who dedicated a slight nod to Stanford

"Dead man" greet the man and the explorer shivered at this voice

"You highness" he said remembering the stories and movies he had saw on his youth

"I have been informed of your last wish" said the monarch "it is a noble thing to ask us to take you to the place where you condemned yourself, do you plan to ask for forgiveness?"

And the young man didn´t answer

"I have approve your wish" said the stoic man and Ford smile and nod in thankfulness "And I am coming with you"

The young man was surely surprised. He searched for his mother´s eyes as he did back in the day when his father was being confusing, what he found was a queen looking proud as she evaded his sight.

"Why am I to be honored" he asked with a frown. He kind noticed his uneasiness and smiled

"I don´t trust anyone more than myself, my boy" he explained "I have a personal interest on you and will make sure you come back here safe and sound for tomorrow´s execution"

And then he let the slaves to prepared him to left the palace. They tide a wide golden belt around his waist and his crown was changed for another one smaller but in the same way exquisite; his feet were in leather shoes and over his shoulders they placed a purple cape which the queen tided safe around his neck. She bowed after, and he kiss her on the forehead. Then the slaves move to prepared Stanford.

They took away his tunic and replaced it with one completely black and they tide it around his waist very tightly. On his hands, they place a pair of bracelets that felt too much like handcuffs, they were cold and heavy; around his head, crossing his forehead, they placed a metal band with a dead symbol on it; and finally, they brought a pair of vases and the queen stepped closer; she introduced a hand in each and they came out covered in dark red paint she then took his neck between her hands and covered it with it, it looked like his blood had been spilled and he felt like crying; looking at her eyes he knew she felt like it as well.

::::::

* * *

If Stanford Pines was ever ashamed of being force to hang out with his father, it was nothing compared of what he was feeling at the moment. He kept his proud look every time and the hot sun could easily be blamed for the red color his face had gain. He walked in front of the king with the monarch´s eyes ever watching his back; they walked all the way from the palace to the city square where the Temple stood with all its beauty and splendor. Poor man had to fight every sob and tear that threated him with coming out. He bit his tongue so hard and so often, he feared he could never speak again. Yet when he thought about it, he realize it was a waste of time even caring about that. He would be dead tomorrow, with no one to tell his family and friends knowing what had come of him.

As they walked the streets became smaller and smaller, and fewer where the people they saw. Soon they reached their destiny and looking around, Ford notice that people around them evaded his sight while others lock themselves on their homes, he interpreted this as a town´s custom, clearly the people felt ashamed or dirty by looking at a dead man, or maybe they weren´t allowed to see him at all. It was when the King called him that he came to realize that maybe they were not scare of he himself, but the ruler of their land that decided to share his company.

Ford started walking the temple´s steps all the way up where that man was waiting for him. He felt his dark eyes even behind the sheet and shivered at them as he fight once again against crying. In that moment there was no Stanford Pines, explorer, scientific and investigator, right there he was little Ford, a child who had broken something important in the pawn shop and was forced to walk shamefully to receive his punishment. At his walk he was when the notice a small figure hiding behind the king without his knowledge. The figure stretched his little dirty hand and tried to steal the bag of gold the king carried on his belt. Ford watched in silence and not daring to even breath. He froze on his place as his limps felt heavy. It was his shocked expression that warned the king who then turn around to find a brat stealing from him

"You miserable rat!" hissed the king throwing the young boy against the wall. The kid let a whine escape as he took his head between his hands. Ford remained speechless

"What made you think scum like you could even look at me on the eye?" and he hit him again with the back of his hand right in the moment when the boy was trying to stand up.

"Please…" said Stanford in a whisper still trying to find his voice

"They are always rotten when they start this young" observed the king and took a shiny knife out of his sleeve, immediately after he took the hurt child by the hair and prepared himself for stab his heart. This was the moment when Ford find his voice and felt the blood boil in rage. This was the moment whatever spell was keeping his feet fixed to the ground was cast away. He didn´t care about the heavy bracelets nor about the people who might be watching from behind their curtains inside their homes. He run to where they were fast as he had never moved before determined to step up to this man as he should have many years ago.

"Leave him!" he yelled as he threw himself to the man who startled by the sudden movement had no chance to react. The young man blow send his head hard against the wall. The king, feeling all dizzy and confused, tried to cut through Stanford´s skin with his nice sharp knife, but the young was much faster and strong and after a brief struggle he kick the older man in the chest, sending him back at the steps where he stop moving at all

"Stanley?" said Ford panting to the confused boy in front of him

"You killed him" said the very younger version of his twin brother looking at the steps. Stanford turned around quickly and immediately regret doing so. There in the steps lied the twisted body of the king with a string of blood coming out of his nose.

::::::

* * *

Stanford watched the still body of his father in horror. The air was not enough and a heavy sensation chocked him.

"No" said Ford quietly pulling his hairs to the point it hurt "No, no, no"

He run to where the body was and tried with no success to find a pulse. He checked his eyes and found them lifeless and opaque, his hand was starting to get cold. It was no way denying it now. The neck had been snapped against the steps. Stanford turned around and emptied his stomach. The young boy looked disgusted as he did.

"Stanley" called the young man again reaching for the young brunette who took a step back

"We better flee" said the boy with urgency but when trying to run, he felt nauseous and fell on his knees. Stanford noticed and took him in his own arms. He was in pain, he felt his chest about to explode but he paid no attention to that. With the young boy clinging at his neck and complaining next to his ear, he ran as fast as he could and away from the body that will haunt him all his life

"Stanley" he said holding the boy closer "Stanley" he repeated painting in exhaustion

"Why do you keep saying that?" he asked scared. They turned around on an alley and hide behind its shadows. The man left the boy on the ground and glided all his way against the wall and into the ground

"You…" said Ford chocking with his own words as he panted "You look like a Stanley"

The boy forced a laugh even when he was obviously scared

"My name is Pollux" he said holding his head. Ford noticed and got closer to the kid who at this point had figured he meant no harm, actually, for the boy it felt like he was the stable one as he saw the man shaking as he got closer. Little Pollux himself came to the destroyed man all by his own

"I just want to see if you are ok" he said holding a sob but forced himself to be strong for the kid "Do you feel dizzy? Wanna throw up?" his voice had some urgency the boy had never witnessed before, not even from his old mother back at the farm

"And my head hurts" he said with a lower voice "Why Stanley?"

Ford stopped the check up to consider his question and a proper answer. Finally, he decided he was sick of lying, it found was useless! Stan could always see when he was upset or hiding something, what were the odds this 12 year old version of him could not?

"That´s my brother´s name. Open your mouth and stick your tongue out"

The boy did as told

"Is he like me?" he asked with his tongue still outside his mouth, Ford smiled sadly at his familiar behavior

"Yes. How many fingers do you see?" he asked holding two of them out

"Why? was he smart, handsome and a total charm?" he asked placing a sly smile upon his lips

"And reckless, knucklehead who is completely insane!" he answered a changing the sob for a chuckle "How many fingers, Stan?"

"Pollux"

"Pollux, then"

Both of them remained silent. The boy observing the man´s hand and occasionally his face. It was a mess covered with grief and sorrow. Ford watched the boys eyes as they travel from his hands to his face and noticed familiar signs of worry on them

"Six" replied the boy quietly taking the hand on his own "You got six fingers on each hand"

"pretty weird, huh?"

"Perry Cool!" and the boy, not letting it go, place it upon his own head where a bump had started to grow "Do you feel that? That´s when that tyrant hit me!"

Ford stroked his curls and was please to notice they were as soft as they should be. His smile soon disappeared when he notice the contusion was serious. Looking into his eyes he tried to find any anomaly on his pupils. He chuckle at the irony, last time he did, Stan was much older and he was a wreck.

"What?" asked the boy worried for the sudden gloom look that took over the adult´s features

"You will be fine" whispered "Don´t worry"

The two of them let silence took over again, it was a fact the boy learned to feel comfortable around his savior. He liked the man. He enjoy the sound of this voice and the worried look on his eyes. It was different to anything he had known before. His father had been an old farmer who loved him dearly but died by the kings orders one horrible night; and his mother, she was alive, but sick of sadness due her loss. That way the young boy decided to take care of them both, unfortunately there are not much people who would pay well a kid like him so he had to take an alternative road, one he became so use to he had forgotten to feel ashamed of. Then there was this new, strange and caring man who had saved him from a certain death. He was dying already so he assumed that was the only reason behind such an heroic act. Little Pollux knew so little about compassion on this world

"Thanks for saving me, man" said the boy awkwardly "You shouldn´t have"

"And let your mother worry to dead, I don´t think so, my boy"

"I almost feel sorry for the king" chuckle the kid trying to bring a conversation topic, Stanford´s face fell "He was horrible"

"Yeah" sighed Ford feeling the knot forming on his throat. He understood what the kid meant and by a very personal experience: Filbrick Pines was never a good man. Yet his son always believed he cared for them. That´s why the sight of him attempting against his brother life shocked him enough to commit murder. It had been an accident and he was not really his father, he was not the same man who paid for his books and clothes. The man lying on the temple steps was not that who forced him and his brother to take box lessons… he was not the one who kicked Stan out all those years ago. He was but no meaning the same man, it was not real!

But it certainly felt like it.

Stanford Pines, scientific researcher of New Jersey, could not take it anymore and let all those tears fall. His body was shaking violently and he did open his mouth multiple times to scream in grief and pain. He torn his clothes and pull his hair out. At his right, a young Stanley, one just like the one he left behind, took a sit and dared to touch his arm

"Hey," he said stroking him carefully "It… it´s ok. You´ll be fine, huh?"

Yet the man didn´t react, just continued to rock himself back and forth. He child thought of what to say for a second twisting his mouth

"High Six?" he said with his childish voice breaking and with tears on his own eyes

:::::

* * *

When the sun was setting, Ford decided to come back to the palace and face his crimes. Young Stanley as he kept calling the boy, left to return home, not without promising he would take care of himself. The farewell was simple but it broke the already shattered heart of the young man.

Once he was a few steps away from the palace door, panic took over him and he once again forgot how to breath properly. He couldn´t do this! How was he supposed to tell his beloved mother he killed her husband? He was not her son here, she didn't have any memory of hem and Stanley growing up. She would ask the slaves to hold him, she would kill him herself and the thought terrified him. Letting his tears travel all the way from his eyes to his neck, he decided to use another entrance, one less obvious, one that would allowed him to reach his chamber without being seen. It was stupid, it made nonsense, but this place was the closest thing he had to a home right now, and he really needed his mom.

::::::

* * *

He was sitting on the edge of this bed when the doors opened with no previous announcement or warning, seconds later he saw the distressed figure of his mother entering the room. He stood up with a jump and let her see into his eyes. He felt his stomach twisting when he notice the pain on hers.

"How long have you been here?" he asked coldly rising her head

"A while now" he reply, a vague answers to avoid the truth, it had work before… for Stan.

"My husband…?"

"I don´t know. I ran when we were attacked" he wasn´t sure the lie was convincing enough but there was no going back "I manage to escape almost unharmed? and he showed her the cuts made by the very king knife during the struggle. She gave them a closer look. She let her hands wander across his arms and hands as he noticed none of those were really serious and he let her study him and his wounds. A tear fell down on his hand, then another, then another. Suddenly he felt like a child again trying to comfort his crying mother. He would place his hand on her shoulder but didn´t dare to do so

"They kill him" she cried "The king was murdered and we have no heir to rely on" and she threw herself at his arms. He caught her and hold her tight letting her cry her eyes out on his chest. She clawed and scratch but he could not care less. He hide his face on her hair and silently cried. He wish he could tell her, he wished she knew he shared her grief.

"My twins are dead and my other son is nowhere to be found" she continued "I am a lone woman! People never liked us. I am soon to die"

"No please!" begged Stanford "Don´t said that!" and without thinking he kiss the top of her head like she was a hurt child. It felt weird for him to be so big and feel her so small

"I am sorry" he said with a gasp

"I am sorry" he repeated this time cleared as he felt the queen´s sobs stop "I am sorry. I am sorry... I should never came here. I should never let him kick Stan out"

"What?" exclaimed the queen confused as she stepped away from him. What she saw was a broken man

"I shouldn´t have but kill him" he confessed and the queen eyes when wide "I was an accident, I never meant to…. I could have never… He was about to kill Stan, I know he was! I couldn´t let him do that" and he took her shoulders violently on his hands, a sign of pain took over her features "Tell me I am to be redeem! Tell me that this crime will not follow me to death!"

"Ford" said she when she found her voice "What did you do?" and she shook her head like he did when she was disappointed

"I DID IT!" he yelled at the top of his lungs "I KILLED HIM! I WAS THE ONE WHO TOOK HIS LIFE!" And he dropped to the marble four crying and shaking like a mad man

"I did it" he repeated softly with his hands covering his eyes.

The Queen said no other word. She instead forced him to stand up and lead him to the bed, when he made him sit down. He didn´t notice her pitiful eyes watching him, nor the painful expression on her face

"Law says" explained the Queen, touching his brown hairs "That whoever kills the kings gets the throne himself"

This new information only make Ford´s cries more heart breaking. He sobbed faster and the nails priced deeper on the skin. The Queen took his hands away from his face

"You won´t be punished for this crime. You´ll have all you ever wanted"

He broke down crying. This time softly but not less painful. The queen observed his thin figure shake along with the sobs and the hot tears that crossed his face and fell on the floor. She felt angry, she should be the one crying in sorrow and grief, not this strange man who came to her life so little ago. She felt jealous because she could not feel the way he did, not the pain on the heart, not the obvious regret, and all this made her uneasy as she stood unmoved by the edge of his bed.

Stanford was so immersed on his exploding feelings, he did not notice that woman getting closer, neither he paid any attention to her hands taking his face on them, nor he cared about she forcing his chin up. He felt so miserable and guilty he barely notice her getting dangerously closer and closer until it was too late and her lips had already caught his forcing him into an angry and hungry kiss.

He pushed her away in shock. In his try to get away from her as possible, he fell on the floor, and then, he crawled all his way back until his body was pressing itself against the wall. The queen found hurtful the disgust on his face and horror on his eyes. He meant to talk, but his voice will not be heard. She tried to come to him, she stepped closer and he was scared when he found there was no way to go

"No!" he ordered "Please don´t get any closer" He was broken. His mind could not make a single coherent thought

"I mean no harm" answered the queen looking his lost expression and his wandering eyes, looking at everything on the room except her "Forgive me" she plead. Before he could even think of something she had run to his side and was lying right next to him on the floor

"Forgive me" she cried once again "Forgive me! But I must have this! " and she struggled trying to keep his arms away from his chest. He was confused but won´t let her get so close again. He felt betrayed and hurt, and dirty.

"I need a heir" she gasped softly in desperation when seeing he would not answer to her pleads "Please, Ford! You took away my husband the least you can do is give a son!"

He clasped his hands over his mouth to avoid throwing up. The expression of sickness and horror on his face outraged her not knowing he could not see her as who she was, but as the mother he left on another world far away. Furious, she tried to get him once again; she didn't want a love story, she didn't want him to be sweet and caring, all she cared about was her own linage continuing and making him suffer for what he did to her and her husband. They struggled, he did nothing but resist. She begged, scream and cried until it was too much for him. He felt lost and, even when it had been just one kiss, he felt raped.

"Go away" he said when his hands found the way back to his head and he rocked on his place "Please, Mom, go away"

The queen froze at his words. Stepping back she looked at him searching for answers, but he may not be even aware of his own words. He looked lost, hurt, and traumatized. Most that all, he looked like a child. The Queen felt her stomach turning. In a hurry, he stood up and fixed her clothes before running outside, as far way from him as she could, understanding his feelings and that she may have misunderstood her own feeling for the young man.

:::::

* * *

Stanford never knew how long he stood lying on the floor that dreadful day. When he found the strength to stood up, he took a small blade from the table and threw it to the live coals on the fire place. Stripping out the palace clothes, he dressed again on his black pants and boots, but left his upper body exposed. The sickness had not stop, he was starting to believe the pain on his soul as a permanent thing on his life. He wanted to forget. He wanted to stopping thinking about this horrible experience: about the lifeless body of his father and the mother that could see him as a man. When the blade was hot enough, he took it carefully and hesitating at first, he pierced his own skin, on the left shoulder, a couple of inched down his collar bone. He cared little about the physical pain or the burning smell of his own skin as he made the blade dance on his body. He didn´t stop until he was forever marked with the blind eye symbol.

He threw the blade away and screamed. It was heartbreaking and horrible, the slaves thought he may be a crying ghost. He used his own scarf as a bandage and dressed his wound. When he was done, he finished dressing up and got out the palace the same way he got in earlier: no one noticed, no one stop him from the freedom he need. He felt like dying, but he would not fall on this cursed place. Wandering on the night, he searched for a dimension crossing point. He would not stop nor rest until he found a place where he could start all over and this place looked like a horrible, twisted nightmare.

And he did.

:::::

The End

* * *

::::::

I am sorry, I have broken my own rule of happy ending fics.

I am sorry as well for making Ford suffer so much, believe it or not I LOVE him, but I was reading something about classic literature and Oedipus Rex was among the listed books. I knew the story from before and imagined how it would be to have the Pines on a similar situation, that´s how this was born.

Of course I used it as inspiration but there are many differences. Also I should said I gave little Stan the name Pollux because it felt fitting: He was the twin brother of Castor on Greek mythology. He was a talented boxer and immortal who share his eternal life with his twin when he was killed.

Despite the horror poor Ford lived on my fic, I am glad he return home and was able to smile again.

Thank you for your time and I would love to hear from you.


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